Tried To Do What's Right
by LilyBolt
Summary: "At first, the reality of the situation was clear to Sam. . . . Then reality began to blur with his subconscious, and he lost all sense of control." A glimpse at Sam and Dean's opinions on the aftermath of the season 3 finale. Based on the song "Red Like Roses Part 2" by Jeff and Casey Lee Williams, as requested by the lovely kingdommast. (Not a slash fiction.)


**WARNING: Spoilers for season 3 finale, season 4 in general,and most specifically, 4x21 "When the Levee Breaks". **

**Author's Note: This is for the lovely kingdommast, who asked me to write a song!fic based on "Red Like Roses Part 2" by Jeff and Casey Lee Williams. She specifically wanted the story to look at both Sam's and Dean's feelings about when Dean went to Hell at the end of season 3. This story takes place during Sam's time in the panic room in 4x21 "When the Levee Breaks". The first half deals with Sam's POV, and the second half deals with Dean's. There are a few sections of song lyrics I included throughout, all in italics. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, nor do I own ****"Red Like Roses Part 2" by Jeff and Casey Lee Williams. :)**

* * *

At first, the reality of the situation was clear to Sam. He was trapped in Bobby's panic room, riding out the effects of cutting demon blood cold turkey.

His head began to pound, his limbs began to shake, and sweat gathered in a sheen across his forehead, somehow managing to feel like fire and ice all at once.

To say it was unpleasant would be the understatement of the century, but at least he understood what was happening. Sam drew upon the deep the well of strength within him, determined to face this detox head on and push through it- to find some way to escape it and go finish what he started.

That plan was great, right up until the hallucinations took hold.

Then reality began to blur with his subconscious, and he lost all sense of control.

* * *

_I couldn't take it couldn't stand another minute_

_Couldn't bear another day without you in it_

_All of the joy that I had known for all my life_

_Was stripped away from me the minute that you died_

* * *

Sam was panting, staring at the ceiling in total confusion.

Not two seconds before, Alastair had been there, carving lengthy gashes into the side of his torso and laughing as he told him stories of the atrocities he had put Dean through in Hell…

Now the panic room appeared empty, and Sam found he was no longer strapped to the torture-table he had felt confined to moments ago.

Before he even had the chance to realize that Alastair must never have been there- must have been a figment of his imagination- the disoriented man sensed another presence standing nearby.

For a moment he feared that Alastair had returned, but the flair of panic dissipated as soon as the figure behind him spoke.

"Sammy."

With that one word, Sam felt hope. If Dean was with him, then things couldn't be too bad. At the very least, he was certain that Alastair wouldn't be able to return for him. Sam opened his mouth to greet his brother, but paused.

Dean had walked forward, now standing in his line of vision, and Sam was surprised to find it wasn't the Dean he had anticipated.

This Dean was younger, and not just because he had fewer lines on his face. His eyes were bright- more so than Sam had seen in…actually, in a little over one year. Because as the Dean before him came more into focus, Sam could tell exactly what time he was from. He couldn't mistake that image of his brother for anything.

After all, it was the last image he had of Dean just before his brother was torn apart by demonic dogs.

The Dean from that awful night in New Harmony stood by his side, and in that moment Sam was lost again from reality, so certain that this was the brother he failed to save.

"Dean." Sam said, voice cracking with guilt and grief.

"What've you done to yourself Sammy?" his brother asked, and the sadness on his face was apparent, reminding Sam of the broken look he wore just before the clock struck midnight and his time was up…

But this was more than just the reluctant acceptance of his own impending demise. This was an even deeper pain- a bone-deep mourning for something lost, and Sam could see it in his brother's eyes, down to his very soul.

He grieved for who Sam had once been, and he was disappointed in the man his little brother had become.

"I…I'm sorry." Sam said softly as old feelings of shame filled him, reminding him that he had failed to protect the brother he swore to save. "I couldn't stop them." He added, desperately trying to push back the memories of the hounds of Hell that had stolen the person he valued most away from him.

Dean's eyes flashed with further sadness as he replied, "I never asked you to. I knew what I was getting myself into the day I sold my soul for you, and I'd do it again because it meant you got to keep breathing. But now I'm getting worried because this…"The older Winchester waved his arm at the room around him and the chains that kept Sam restrained. "This ain't the life I died to give you Sammy. So I'm asking you again. What've you done to yourself?"

Sam looked away, his gut twisting with a mix of remorse and defiance.

He could see the damage he had done to himself- the way he had let his health drift away in favor of the blood that lent him power. But that power wasn't a desire, it was a necessity. It was a means to an end, and Sam needed his brother to understand that.

He didn't take this addiction on for personal gain. He had done this because, when Dean was gone, so was the back-up he'd been able to count on his whole life.

"I did what needed to be done. Lilith needs to die, not just because she's a threat to the world, but because she killed my _brother._ You were gone, and I didn't have a lot of options. The demons didn't want my soul for yours, and the research wasn't giving me a way to help you. I did the only thing left I could do. I kept fighting, in any way I could. Now I stand a chance against her, because the bitch deserves to die, and I plan on being the one to kill her."

Sam sighed and looked up at his brother again.

"It's what you'd have done." He added softly.

Dean frowned and shook his head. "It's not what you _should_ have done. You let yourself go and I hate to see you like this. Where's the kid I helped raise, huh? Where's 'Sammy'?"

Sam stared at the ceiling, watching the fan turning slowly behind the metal devil's trap, reminding him of the blood that coursed through his veins- demonic blood.

"I guess 'Sammy' died with you Dean." He finally said, and then tried to ignore the devastation radiating from Dean. He could see the older man deflate out of the corner of his eye, looking so ruined by those words.

Then suddenly, Sam was alone once more.

* * *

_I know you didn't plan this_

_You tried to do what's right_

_But in the middle of this madness_

_I'm the one you left to win this fight_

* * *

_OoO_

* * *

_I wanna tell you that you're all that ever mattered_

_Want you to know that for eternity I'm shattered_

_I tried so hard just to protect you but I failed to_

_And in a prison of abandonment I've jailed you_

* * *

Dean sat outside the panic room listening to the entirety of Sam's conversation. Or at least the half of it he could actually hear, given that it was clear Sam was having his talk with some form of hallucination.

He soon realized that it wasn't the same as the other visions. It wasn't Alastair there to torment him, or a version of Sam himself.

This one was of Dean.

He knew by the things Sam was saying- all the talk of how he had turned to demon blood because "you were gone". It was obvious the "you" in Sam's head was his older brother.

It killed Dean to hear it, not just because he could tell his brother was hurting, and not just because these hallucinations were only proof of how Sam had really hit rock bottom…But because the reasons Sam gave for his actions were so…understandable.

All of Dean's life he had given anything he could to look out for his little brother. Money, energy, time, his own soul… It didn't matter because Sam was worth it all to him.

Now, hearing Sam's words, he could see he had let the younger Winchester down in the end.

Dean had gone to Hell, and Sam had turned to a Hell of his own creation- a world of grief and pain and self-destruction. He had thrown himself recklessly into the hunt, and cast away all concern for his own well-being in lieu of his goal to take down the beast that killed his family.

In his hallucinatory state, Sam had even said that he believed Dean would have done the same thing.

And of course Dean would have. He'd have hurled himself at that demon blood if it meant avenging Sammy… But that was because _he_ didn't matter.

Not like Sam mattered.

Dean now realized he hadn't done his job before he died, because somehow Sam hadn't understood how important he was- how Dean had died so Sam could _live_, not just so he could continue breathing…

Then Dean heard Sam utter the last words of the imagined conversation, and he felt his heart break.

"I guess 'Sammy' died with you Dean." The strained voice on the other side of the iron door said.

His head hung low and his chest ached with a sense of failure, because no matter how many times he'd gone to Hell for him, if he had allowed 'Sammy' to be destroyed then he had never saved his brother at all.

"I'm sorry Sammy." Dean said quietly to the barrier between them.

Sam's screams of pain started up again from the panic room's interior, and Dean was left with only their echoes and his own shame for company.

* * *

_I know you've lived a nightmare_

_I caused you so much pain_

_But baby please don't do what I did_

_I don't want you to waste your life in vain_

* * *

**Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Feedback is sincerely appreciated. :D  
**

**P.S. kingdommast, I hope you enjoyed this one. It was a challenge to write, but also very fun, so thank you for the cool prompt!  
**


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